


Samson

by Nakimochiku



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:22:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the betrayal, she holds a pair of scissors to his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samson

Aizen touches Shinji's hair just once. Its months before the betrayal. There is normally a barrier between them, a strict rule that keeps one from ever touching the other. They obey it. In retrospect, perhaps Aizen is feeling cocky, arrogant in his surety of perfection. His fingers tangle in long blonde strands as Shinji passes and tug gently, halting him.

At the time, Shinji doesn't know what to make of it. Now, he thinks he should have buried Sakanade to the hilt in Aizen's gut. He watches Aizen press the long strands of his hair to his nose, and breathe in, kiss the coil of his hair _like he's saying goodbye_ and sneers. "Sousuke." He says. His tone is light, but his face is hard, and Aizen's eyes crinkle at the corners with his complacent smile. 

"Captain Hirako." Aizen answers blithely, stroking his hair between his fingers.

"If ya wanna confess your feelings for me, you'll have to do better than that." He says. He jerks the hair from Aizen's fingers with a toss of his head. Aizen lets his hand fall slowly, rubbing his fingertips together _almost longingly_ , and smiles. That smile is as slick as oil, clings to his skin, artificial and dishonest. 

"Of course, Captain Hirako. I'll try to be more romantic next time."

There is no next time.

After the betrayal, Hiyori holds a pair of scissors to his hair. "You sure about this?" She asks, concern tinging her tone before she replaces it with brusque indifference. "I don't want you harping on me if it doesn't grow back."

Shinji glances at the chunk of hair over his shoulder, imagines he can still feel Aizen's fingers, his lips, scorching his hair to the root. He turns resolutely forward. 

"Cut it."


End file.
